Assassin's Creed Meets Prince of Persia
by DarkMoonX
Summary: ON HOLD. This is a sort of Assassin's Creed and Prince of Persia crossover.The Prince visits Damascus and meets Altair.Both become involved in each others missions of life and become friends.Switches between points of view.No this is NOT yaoi.
1. 1 Prince

A/N: So, I tried to sequence this in as best as I could. I'm not trying to be totally accurate here with both games so if I make a mistake then oh well. But, this is set in after Sands of Time and before Warrior Within. As you all should know, if you're a big Prince of Persia freak like me, the Prince is searching for a way to rid himself of his fate, which is for him to die. After the Sands of Time, even though he set things right he still messed with the timeline so the Dahaka is chasing after him. So, now he is searching different countries and cities to help find the answer to save himself. And of course, this he comes to Damascus, where Altair from the great game Assassin's Creed is. This could be set during Altair's missions to assassinate the crusades or after. I haven't decided yet. Either way, the Prince and Altair meet. They both become involved in each others missions and end up being friends. And no, they are not gay. Anyway, hope you like the beginning and tell me if I need to change anything. Read and review please, thanks! Also, I put this in the Assassin's Creed category because the focus is more on the storyline of Assassin's Creed. I'm going to change points of view between the prince and Altair. Also, I may give the prince a name just because it gets annoying calling him Prince all the time. And this is NOT a yaoi fanfic. It's a friendship between two guys that I really really love. Drools

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Assassin's Creed meets Prince of Persia: Altair and Prince

I had been standing on a rock overlooking the lake for almost an hour, still and focused in my actions, minding what lay behind me. My shadow grew deeper into the ground until it blended in well with the darkness that surrounded me. It wasn't until I looked up at the moon that I realized how worn I was from the past several days and even years, my body scarred with wounds that with time would heal. 

I heard a nearby noise, a stick breaking in the dark night. I turned my head slightly, my hair whipping into my eyes from the desert breeze. My hand went to the hilt of my sword, which was fastened to my side. I grasped the hilt, ready to take whatever had been watching me for the past hour. Upon hearing footsteps I turned in haste, my sword in hand, ready to strike. But I saw nothing as I turned, only a faint glint of white out of the corner of my eye. 

I growled deep within my chest. I was tired of mind games. Only a crazy fool would stand in suspicion at his own shadow. And a fool I was. I reminded myself every day at just how big of a fool that I was. The Sands of Time. Had I completely erased them from time itself?

Chapter 1

The sky was deepening with a dark gloom that seemed to consume the city of Damascus. Darkness crept through all the alleys and corners where light was not seen. The moon was gone, hidden behind clouds as they threatened to soak the night. It was something that I had dwelt in for many years and in it I felt comfort. Even within my own self I had felt the Darkness. 

Now, as I walked through the darkened streets, the atmosphere much different than it had been earlier on in the day while people bustled about buying and selling and working, I walked with my head bowed, looking forward. My thick, faded red cape flowed behind me, almost dragging on the ground. I was alert and ready for anything. As I was nearing my destination I looked up to see a glint of white, the same as earlier. I shook my head and closed my eyes, sighing. It had been a long journey, traveling from Babylon all the way to Damascus, and I was beyond weary and worn. I needed much rest, but tomorrow my work would begin.

I had traveled this way, with a few of my men to simply travel abroad, to seek answers and truth of my fate, for my very soul was at stake, damned to a constant shadow tugging at my heels. I had opened the Sands of Time, and though all had been restored in the end, still the sands stood and my fate had changed course. For this reason, death itself came to claim me. I knew it when I had the dreams. I felt death upon me faintly. A shadow that lingered, crept in the dark. I had not been faced with the thing in which I beheld in my dream, but I had dreamt of it all to well to know that it was there, searching for me. But what I could do to change my fate I did not know, which sent me on my travels places as far as Damascus. I sought out psychics and prophesiers, even fortune tellers, to give me guidance and truth. So far none that I had seen on my travels could tell me about the death that tugged at me. And none mentioned the Sands of Time.

I sighed, shaking my head. I needed to clear my thoughts but it was impossible to do. I had gone out of the city to seek peace and solace but even then my mind would not rest. Six years and still my mind was troubled and my heart still wrenched in pain from a haunting memory of _her_, Farah. I would never get over her. I dreamed about her still, and the sad thing that I myself knew was, she didn't even know me. I touched the golden medallion hanging around my neck: The one and only keepsake of Farah's that I hadn't returned. The one thing that time had let me keep, besides my life.

I heard a sudden noise, jars breaking on the cobblestones. I turned a suspicious eye toward a dark alleyway. I didn't want to linger longer so I continued on, my hand on the hilt of my sword, but as I turned a corner to the street of my lodging I looked up to see a glimpse of a hooded man robed in white running along the rooftops. I narrowed my eyes. Perhaps my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. Someone had been following me after all, yet they brought me no harm. After looking around I continued walking and eventually made it to my inn, which was located in the middle district. Only three of my good men accompanied me and our skills in fighting were beyond our years. 

As I came through the inn door the room was lively with men drinking and playing games on the tables. I made my way mysteriously to my room upstairs, in which I had been lodged with all of my men. A small room with four beds but it was decent, and the city of Damascus only added to it. It reminded me somewhat of Babylon, with its cushions about the room and its iron, intricate windows. But even Babylon wasn't so free. This city was small in comparison to Babylon and I favored that.

I went to sleep that night with a weighted conscience, but with all that had been bothering me that night, for my sake I didn't dream.


	2. 2 Altair

A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far guys. Sorry that this chapter is short. They'll get longer as I progress. Hope you like! Altair's view!

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It was late when I neared the Bureau. Two days back in Damascus and already I was falling behind. The assassination of Tamir, the black market merchant of Damascus, put the city on alert for a while. So I had let weeks pass after my last assassination to calm the city before I struck again and in the meantime I had eliminated two others in Jerusalem and Acre. Now I had orders back in Damascus to take another life.

I had made sure this time to mind my actions upon returning to the city. My target was clear from Al Mualim: I was to assassinate a man named Abu'l Nuquod, the richest man in Damascus. I had eavesdropped on a couple of guards and had found out that my target was planning a feast, in which many people would be attending. However, the feast was not for six days and so I had planned on staying in Damascus to see what other information I could gather, along with pondering what I was doing. I had assassinated five men and Damascus would be my sixth. All men had spoken words to me before death took them, words of wisdom that even I did not know of, what they represented and what they were doing. I started to feel remorse in eliminating them, but Al Mualim knew what he was doing. It wasn't for me to decide.

The assassinations weren't the only events to take hold of my life. Upon arriving in Damascus I heard talk of a traveler coming from as far as Persia. This interested me and so I gathered information on the traveler to find their whereabouts. Others of the Creed would have found this behavior unacceptable but I, unlike them, was interested in other things beyond the Creed itself. I longed sometimes to share thoughts with another who wasn't part of the Brotherhood. And so, my curiosity led to the finding of the stranger who had traveled far to Damascus.

I had found him outside of the city, standing at the water's edge. I knew that he sensed my presence, for I sensed in him a cautious mind, alert of his surroundings. I knew it by the way that he grasped his sword's hilt beneath his dark cloak and by the way his eyes peered out from his long hair. He was no mere traveler wishing to see the wonders of the world. His apparel was different from my own and even from the people around the area. He looked worn, rugged, and dark in appearance. He stuck out in crowds no doubt and attracted attention, which was how I had come by him.

After a long time I left, concealing myself behind the bushes and making a run for the city's entrance. I climbed the wall over and though many guards were not out on the streets I used the rooftops as my transportation. I had laid out on a rooftop for a while, watching the night sky as the stars brightened it to brilliance. Nature never ceased to amaze me.

And so after a while I returned to the Bureau, occasionally looking down over the rooftops and as I did I spotted the dark newcomer walking down the street. I stopped and peered over a building but my curiosity lead to my foolishness. So cunning and sly was I, especially with growing as an assassin, but I let my guard down for only a few seconds and knocked over a few clay pots with my foot. My eyes widened when I heard them break on the street down below. The stranger turned but before he could glance my way I ran and managed to make it to the Bureau. I sighed in relief upon feeling the heat of the building inside. My eyes were weary and heavy. The last thing that I needed was sleep deprivation so I laid on the pallets of blankets and cushions of Rafiq's Bureau and let sleep take hold of me.

I woke early in the morning and set out to gather information on where the newcomer was lodging. It didn't take long. I had found out on my own as I traced my steps back to where I had seen him last night walking down the dark streets of Damascus. I stopped at an inn but continued on down the street, cautious not to be seen by him if he were around. After that I went about my daily business. I had information to find on Abu'l Nuquod. I would be back later that night to try and talk with this new stranger.


	3. 3 Prince

A/N: Sorry for not updating in a while. I sort of put this story on hold. Many of my fan fictions get wildly out of hand and I will go months before I continue on one. Here's the next chapter. Hope you like it.

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My fortune of the day led me to an older psychic, who had told me to come back in the evening. He told me that in order for him to get a good reading he would have to connect with the Spiritual realm, which was active more at night. I found it to be absurd and thought twice about it, yet again many psychics had their own ways. Maybe his ritual was right, though strange.

And so, at the setting of the evening, when the sun burned a dull orange, I set off to the psychic's tent. Upon arriving he had me sit on a cushion while he sat just opposite, settling down into his own cushion. I noticed many expensive things within his tent and raised a curious brow.

"Adoring my instruments are you?" he said. Watching me.

"Some would kill for many of these things that you possess."

"Ah, they do not know how to care for such delicacies." He took a wooden device from one of his shelves and placed it in front of him. Then he took a handful of what looked to be some form of plant and pushed it into the wooded device.

Taking a small, thin stick in one hand he lit the end and placed it on the plants.

"Now," he said as the aroma from the burning plant filled the air. "As the incense burns, you will grow into a hypnotic state." He suddenly cleared his throat. "Of course to proceed further with the hypnosis, I require half payment beforehand."

The incense was not uncommon but I had never heard of using hypnosis in order to read one's future. But, as my eyes started to burn and my mind started to grow weary, I reached for my money pouch and drew out two shillings.

"Ah," the older man said. "Quite the wealthy man are we?"

"Go on with your ritual," I said, my voice low. I was in no mood for smooth talk about my wealth.

"Very well, very well," he said. Taking the incense stick, he wrapped one of the plant leaves around its end and waved it around the air.

By now the air became thick and suffocating with the intense aroma of strange smoke. My mind began to waver as I watched him move the stick from side to side. Perhaps this was the beginning of my hypnotic state.

"Now," he stated. "Proceed to follow my movement. Within seconds you will fall into a deep state of sleep, and I will further my reading as I ask you questions."

My eyes were growing weary and my mind wavered. I felt..odd, a strange sensation, though good, overcoming me. Without warning I fell over on my side and everything faded to dark.


	4. 4 Altair

A/N: Hopefully I will update more soon!

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It had to be out of foolishness that this stranger had come to the old fortune teller. I had heard of him traveling to the many merchants and psychics within the city, but I had not been able to witness it myself, until now. And he had been lead into the wrong hands, by a fool of a merchant no doubt, to this man. I knew him too well by now. He was known by many as a fraud, luring in innocents wishing to have their future told, only to be robbed and left in a dark alleyway.

That would be the case with this stranger. I could tell now, as I peered around a stone wall at the tent, that the shadow moving toward the body lying on the ground was now making his nightly rounds, taking whatever he could find. With shadowed eyes I looked around for any civilians, then quietly and cautiously made my way toward his tent. From his shadow against the light inside, I could tell that he was bent over, rummaging through any goods on the stranger.

With a quick movement of my left arm, I sent out my small blade against my missing finger. Now up to the tent, I quietly pulled back its cover and in an instant I had the man under my blade, his neck exposed to its edge.

He choked as I held him, unable to speak at first.

"Give him back his things," I said, my voice low but audible.

"Ah..I," he choked. "I was doing nothing of the sort."

"Perhaps you would like to tell that to my blade." I choked him tighter against my arm.

"No, I will..give them back."

"Do it then," I said and released him.

The old man fell back against the tent and gasped for air. "You're a madman!" he said as he took in my image.

"No, I'm the taker of your life. Or the giver. You choose."

He gasped again and dropped the things that he held down on the stranger on the ground.

I felt my own mind becoming weary from the incense, so I decided to act quickly. "Take his arms and drag him out," I told him.

He swallowed hard. "What will you do to me?"

I drew my sword and without further ado he fled to the stranger on the ground and took him by his arms.

He grunted as he dragged him from the tent, his belongings falling off him as the old man did so. "A heavy fellow I'll give him that," he grunted.

I walked out with him, looking around for any passerbys. There were a few civilians in the distance, which meant that I had to act more quickly.

"Get his things," I demanded. I watched as the old man gathered up the stranger's stolen objects from the ground and dumped them on the stranger himself.

"There. Happy now? I'll just be on my way." He started for the tent but I grabbed his arm tightly, gripping it in my hold.

He grunted but I didn't let go. "You have something," I said coolly.

"Nothing!" He spat.

"He had a medallion around his neck," I said.

The old man grunted under my struggle as I held my sword up to his neck. This time, his blood began to flow.

"Alright alright! Take it and leave!" He pulled it from his pocket and shoved the medallion at my chest.

I let him go and knocked him by the head with the hilt of my sword once he was inside, letting him dream for a while. I didn't need anyone chasing me at the moment. I looked at the medallion in my hand and quickly shoved it into the pocket of my trousers. No time to place things back where they were with the voices of guards nearby. I quickly put the stranger's shillings back into his pouch and slid his sheathed dagger into my boot.

I bent and took him first by the arms. Picking him up, I hoisted him over my shoulder, grunting as I did so. Then I ran for the inn.


End file.
